Be My Hero
by Beautiful-Crying-Angel
Summary: Dean and Sam are attending their fourth high school this year. Events after episode "After School Special." Full Summary Inside.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Be My Hero

**Summary:** Uses events from the flashbacks in the episode 4x13 "After School Special." The year is 1997, and Sam and Dean are attending their fourth school this year. Dean isn't happy, until he meets a girl who enters his life, changes it forever, and, like a shooting star, is just as quickly gone. Dean is rudely awakened by the real world. Another Winchester love story. Dean/OC. Dean – 18. Sam – 14.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Supernatural, or anything appearing in the show.

**Warnings:** Language, an original character, and possible out-of-characterness

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Chapter One**

_January, 1997 Morningside, Maryland_

Dean Winchester pulled the 1967 Impala into a vacant parking spot, Metellica blaring from the speakers. Several students stopped to stare as they walked past.

"Shit, I hate school," he declared, banging the steering wheel with his fist. Four schools in five months. That had to be some sort of record, right?

"Maybe this one will be better…"

"Yeah, right, Sammy." Their last school, Truman High, had been an experience Dean would rather forget.

It had felt so right, her lips aggressive against his, the secluded janitor's closet. But then, out of nowhere, Amanda had opened the door. How the hell had she known he was in there, anyways? Dean had tried to weasel his way out, like a trapped animal, "She doesn't mean anything to me, baby." He couldn't even remember the other girl's name.

"I thought, maybe, under your whole I-could-give-a-crap, bad boy thing that there was something more going on," she had said. "I mean, like the way you are with your brother? But I was wrong. You spend so much time trying to convince people that you're cool but…it's just an act." And then the kicker, "We both know you're just a sad, lonely little kid. And I feel sorry for _you_, Dean." Ouch.

She had walked away with her two friends – that stupid audience of hers as she had cut him down, and made him look like the villain. But she didn't know anything, damn it! He saved lives! He was a hero! He was the reason her nightmares never came to life. Who was she to talk to him like that?

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"We should go now."

"Yeah." Dean looked at his little brother in the passenger seat, pulling himself together. This was just as hard for Sam as it was for him. "You're right."

The school was a small brick building, two stories high, which housed 250 students from grades seven through twelve. Man, was this town small. There was no way they could go unnoticed.

The brothers found their way to the main office easy enough. "Well, good morning," a plump secretary greeted. "Ya'll must be the Winchester boys. Welcome aboard! As you can probably tell, we don't get many new kids around here."

"Really?" Dean muttered sarcastically under his breath, "I never would have guessed."

"These are your class schedules. If ya need anything at all, just holler." Another smart remark formed of Dean's tongue, but Sam answered first.

"Yes, ma'am. Thank-you." God, the kid was polite. "I have science first. What about you?"

Dean glanced briefly at his timetable, uninterested. "English."

"Cool." The first bell rang, and students began filtering in. "I'll see you later."

"Sam, I'll meet you at the car _straight_ after school." He raised an eyebrow, making sure he got the point. Overprotective as always.

"Sure, Dean."

"Don't get into any trouble."

"Don't flip off any teachers."

Dean laughed, "I'm not making any promises.

**_BeMyHero_**

English 12 turned out to be on the second floor, beside the library. Dean slid into the first empty chair he saw, released a heavy sigh, and closed his eyes.

"Excuse me, but you are sitting in my seat."

"So, sit somewhere else." He was _not_ in the mood to be friendly.

"Fat chance, buddy." Dean opened an eye and inspected the girl in front of him. Her long brown hair fell past her shoulders. She had a pretty face, and shocking hazel eyes. And, although her blue jeans and blouse were extremely modest, he had to admit she was absolutely beautiful.

"Would you please move?"

He didn't reply, watching her reaction instead. He studied her intently. Over the years he had learned to read people very well. It came with the territory.

"Look, there's a free spot next to Tiffany, over there. I'm _sure_ you would enjoy that."

"Who's Tiffany?" she had his attention now.

"The blonde. She's head cheerleader." The girl pointed across the room. Dean turned and scanned the crowd, following the line of her finger.

Tiffany turned out to be a smokin' blue eyed blonde in a cheerleading uniform. He could tell she was definitely his type – perky, curvy, and hot.

Dean debated slightly for an entire second, until finally he picked up his book bag, and headed over. He glanced over his shoulder momentarily, just quick enough to see the disappointment flash across the brunette's face before she sat down. He had proved her correct.

"Hey," Dean greeted, slipping smoothly into the chair directly beside the cheerleader. "Dean Winchester."

"Tiffany Cotton," she answered, biting her lip, and looking him up and down. Maybe this school won't be so bad after all, he thought. "We don't get many new kids in these parts."

"So I've noticed."

"You know I could show you around sometime." Tiffany leaned forward in her seat. "Help you get to know the school."

"And by that she means, the back of her throat," a guy in a letterman's jacket chimed in, plopping into the desk in front of Dean. "Geez, girl, let the man settle in first. Check out the other chicks. You're such a skank, Tiff."

"Oh, shut up jerk. We all know why you and Brittany skipped study hall yesterday."

The newcomer laughed, and extending his hand to Dean said, "Hey dude, name's Greg Spence."

"Dean Winchester. Nice to meet you."

"Rumor is you and your brother move around a lot, attended a lot of schools."

"Fourth this year."

"Sweet, dude. Been trapped in this shithole my whole life. What brings you to a small town like Morningside?"

"Well, uh, my Dad-" thankfully, he was cut off by the final bell, and the rest of the students hurried in, followed by the teacher.

"Good morning, class. Good to see you. Looks like we've got some fresh blood with us. You must be Dean Winchester."

"Yes, sir."

"Well, welcome to our little school. I am the English teacher, Mr. Christie."

"He makes good cookies," a voice in the back offered, earning an outburst of laughter.

"Pipe down, Martin. We'll see whose laughing when I give you a 5000 word essay on Shakespeare's use of iambic pentameter."

"Sorry."

"Sure you are, Chuckles. Anyhow, Dean, I hope you enjoy your time with us."

Stealing a glance at Tiffany he answered, "Thank-you, sir. I'm sure I will."

_To Be Continued..._

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**Short, but hey, it's only the beginning =P  
Hope you liked.**

**BCA  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**Warning: Slight language. Sorry it's been a while. I don't know where the story's going quite yet. But I hope you like. Just another day at high school =P**

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**Chapter Two**

After English Dean had Law and Math, then during lunch he sat with Tiffany and Greg, and their friends Brittany, Leila, Devin, and Martin. Their mindless chatter centered mostly around hockey games, pep rallies, who was dating who, and parties - none of which Dean was fondly acquainted, or particularly cared about.

Soon he became bored, and allowed his mind to wander. He spotted Sam immediately upon entering the cafeteria, and was pleased to find him surrounded by friendly eight-graders, all competing to be the younger Winchester's friend. That was at least one good thing about being new in a small school, you were fresh, different, and exciting, and everyone wanted to be your friend. Dean made a mental note to catch up with the kid before lunch ended.

Dean was scanning the tables when he noticed the brunette from English sitting by herself, hardly paying attention to the sandwich she was eating, completely focused on the book she held. Dean had never been one for reading, but the content look on her face, and the excitement in her eyes made him think twice. _What is she reading?_ he thought. _What could light up her face like that? Could I spark that same feeling in her? _He smiled to himself.

"Dean? Dean!" The voice pulled him from his thoughts.

**"**What?"

"Man, I've been trying to get your attention for like two minutes. What's got you so out of it?"

"Oh, you know, just checking out everyone. I was wondering," he tried to appear casual, "that girl over there," he nodded towards the brunette. "What's her story?"

"Beth?" Tiffany scoffed. "You want to know about _Beth_?"

"Uh, yeah…?"

"Beth is only _the_ biggest nerd in the twelfth grade! She's such a goody two shoes, always being polite to teachers, never does anything wrong. And don't get me started on those stupid books of hers. She always has her nose shoved in one. It's just weird."

The others agreed, adding in their own chorus of comments.

"She's such a loner."

"She has no social life."

"Beth thinks she's _so_ smart."

"Because she is, jackass, especially compared to you. You're an idiot! Ha-ha."

"I don't know guys... I think she's kinda nice."

"Whatever. But one thing's for sure," Martin quipped, leaning back in his chair, "I'd tap that."

Laughter exploded from the group, Greg almost falling over. Dean added in his own chuckles, sneaking a glimpse of Beth. There was something about her, although he couldn't put his finger on it, that made him want to get to know her more.

Dean was finally able to catch up with Sam with only five minutes of lunch remaining. He pulled him aside near a nest of lockers.

"Hey, Sammy. How are things going?"

Turns out, better than he had first expected. Sam's classes were quote, "worth attending," the teachers were nice, and already he had made a bunch of friends. In fact, a group of them were planning on going bowling tonight, maybe shoot some pool, and just hang out. They had invited him, and the thing was, Sam actually wanted to go.

Dean looked into his little brother's smiling and hopeful face, and swallowed. If there was one thing he hated, it was disappointing the kid, but he knew he had to. No "but" about it.

"Sam, man, you know you can't. Dad wants us back at the motel right after school, where it's safe." He watched Sam's face fall, the enthusiasm and desire drain from his eyes. He was devastated.

"Fine, whatever."

"Sammy…"

"Dean, I get it," the younger Winchester shrugged, making his face an emotionless mask, indifferent and stone-like. Dean hated how good he was at that. "I'll see you after school."

"Wait-"

"Forget it, I have to get to class." He walked away, shoulders hunched. He didn't look back.

All through his next class Dean worried about Sam, not hearing any of the teacher's words. He hated letting his brother down, hated even more the way Sam closed himself off, shut everything out, shoved stuff deep down inside himself. It wasn't healthy, and to be honest, it pissed him off. Why couldn't he just _talk_ to him?

Dean wanted more than anything for Sam to be able to go out with his friends, to be a normal kid, to have some fun. When was the last time he'd enjoyed himself? No one knew how badly Dean wanted that. This obsession of John's had made them grow up quickly, stolen their childhood and their innocence from them…but did it really need to take the joy out of their lives too? Dean would call his father later and try to get permission. He would do anything, even it meant being completely armed and standing no farther than ten feet away from Sam, he would make sure he got to go. Sam deserved it after all, a break from all this hunting and paranormal shit.

Dean's final class of the day was Honours Chemistry (and yes, he did know what he was doing. And he did make good marks. It ticked him off how people always underestimated him. He could do the work, he just didn't apply himself all the time. Who wants to be learning thermodynamics when a demon's on your ass? Or a chick's tongue is down your throat?)

Dean hadn't see Beth since lunch, and was happy to see her perched on a stool at one of the lab benches. She was buried in a book, yet again.

"Mind if I sit here?" He gestured to the empty seat beside her.

"Knock yourself out, cowboy."

Dean dropped his bookbag with a heavy thud, and parked himself uncomfortably on the stool. He tried shifting. Frig, he hated this things, it was too difficult to slouch, to relax.

"I'm Dean Winchester," he finally said.

"Bethany Ritter," she offered.

"So…what are you reading?" She turned so he could read the cover. " 'The Catcher in the Rye' huh?"

"Mmhmm."

"Is it any good?"

"I think it is." How the hell was he supposed to answer to that? Usually conversation came easily to Dean. Or, in the very least, the girls were practically throwing themselves at Dean by now. But this girl, damn it, couldn't she be more social? How hard was it? She had him at a loss for words, and he hated it.

"So, you watched any good movies lately?"

Beth put down her book, and for the first time really looked at him.

"You want to know about movies I've seen?" A small smile played at her lips. He nodded. "You know, Dean," she leaned in closer, "I think-"

"Miss Ritter?"

"Yes, Mr. Beaufort?"

"Can you please explain to us what 'specific heat capacity' is?"

"Of course, sir. Specific heat capacity is the energy required to raise one gram of a substance by one degree."

"That a girl, good job. Thank-you. But, please, don't distract Mr. Winchester."

"Yes, sir."

"Who can tell me the difference between heat and temperature? Anyone? How about you Williams?" Beaufort continued to pick on several students, placing them on the spot. Once his back was turned, Dean whispered, "Nice save."

"Thanks."

"So, about those movies?"

"I'll get back to you."

_**TBC**_


End file.
